The Ties That Bind Us
by Mystwalker
Summary: Amane Bakura died in a car accident seven years ago. But when Marik finds a girl dressed in Ancient Egyptian clothing claiming to be her, what happens? Why was Amane in Egypt, and what secrets did she bring back with her? Who is the Shadow of Ammit? MIxAB
1. Chapter 1

**The Ties That Bind Us  
><strong>

**By: **

**Mystwalker**

**A/N: **This idea's been bouncing around in my head for some time now. It's mostly a serious fic, however, I couldn't resist tossing in a bit of Marik and Bakura's Abridged personalities once in a while, so there'll be some humor too.

Reviews are appreciated!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Yugioh.

"_I can give you this one kindness. I will send you back to the place you were meant to be." _

_The words enveloped her, seeming to have power and weight all on her own. They dragged her down with them, it seemed, into the stone and into the light. She stretched out her hands, her eyes wide in protest as she reached for him, screaming her disagreement with his plan to the void. But there was no use. Before she could even argue, he had sent her on, the last thing she saw a picture of him turning away from her and walking towards his terrible destiny. _

_To seal himself away forever for the safety of them all. _

_The light swallowed her words, and she fell, falling, falling, for what seemed like forever…_

"Marik!"

Marik Ishtar glanced at the door, his eyes widening as he saw the look on his sister's face. Isis's eyes were wide and worried, one of her hands curling around the door frame for support. He was halfway out of his seat before he had even fully processed this, his hand closing around his Millennium Rod and the book he was studying left forgotten on the desk.

"It's the tomb," said Isis. "Something's happening."

She turned, hurrying back down the stairs. Marik followed her, rushing out the door and into the cool desert air. The town shone brilliantly to the east of them, pinpricks of bright light. Normally, the town and the stars would have been the only visible brightness at this time of night, besides the lights from the small house built next to the tomb. Normally, aside from the fact that the entrance to the tomb was shining brilliantly, white light pouring out and illuminating the space in front of it as if it were daytime.

Without thinking, he moved in front of Isis and opened the entrance. He had the Millennium Rod's protection, while she had never reclaimed her Necklace from Yugi. He stepped inside, feeling a moment's hesitation as he ran down the familiar passage towards his former home.

The light had gathered in the open space underneath the tomb. It shimmered brightly, coalescing into a form that was human in shape. Marik made the mistake of staring too intently at the shape. The light flared up brightly, and he squeezed his eyes shut, momentarily blinded.

He blinked as the light cleared, lowering the arm he had placed in front of his eyes. The light was completely gone now, the only light in the tomb coming from the moonlight that filtered in through the now open entrance. In the center of the room, kneeling on the ground in the same place the light had touched earlier, was a girl.

Her skin was slightly tanned by the sun, although it looked as though it had started out pale. Her hair was a shockingly white, the moonlight reflecting off of it and making it seem to shimmer. Her eyes were a bright green. She was dressed in clothes from Ancient Egypt, a simple white sheath dress, with a pale green sash tied around her waist. One of her arms was bandaged from wrist to elbow, a gold bracer hanging just over the bandage.

"_Why…?" _she muttered under her breath, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

The single word stopped him, because it wasn't in Arabic. It was in Egyptian. The same language that would have been spoken in the Pharaoh's time.

He took a deep breath.

"_Who are you?" _he asked in the same language.

Her eyes widened and she quickly turned in his direction, startled. He stepped out of the shadows, revealing himself to her. As he watched, her eyes moved in the direction of the Millennium Rod for a moment, before looking back at his face.

"…_I am called Amani…" _she said slowly. Her words had an odd lilt to them, as if it wasn't her native language. It wasn't _his _either, spoken anyway, but he had heard Bakura speak it once, and he knew what that sounded like.

The girl took a deep breath, rising to her feet. Her eyes passed over his form again, taking in his clothes, and something rose up in them. Marik frowned in confusion. Hope?

"…_What year is it?" _

It was an odd question, but he told her the answer anyway. Her eyes widened, and she began to look excited. And then something happened. She opened her mouth, hesitated for a moment, took another deep breath, and then spoke. Her words were halting, as if she hadn't used the language in a while, but the accent was almost unmistakable.

British.

"Do you…do you speak English?"

He was stunned, but not too stunned to reply. "Yes…" he said, watching her closely.

Footsteps sounded behind him. The girl's eyes immediately flickered towards them, but relaxed when she saw Isis coming down the stairs. Marik looked back at his sister for a moment, before turning towards the girl.

"I need help. I'm sorry," said the girl quickly, turning towards Marik. "But I don't know where I am. I need to find my brother."

"Your brother?" asked Marik, now starting to draw a connection in his mind. But it was impossible…wasn't it? Did _he _even have a sister?"

"Yes," said the girl, nodding. "He's in Japan, probably. Have you heard of Domino City?"

Marik frowned at the girl, changing the subject. "You said you were _called _Amani," he said. "What's your name? Really."

The girl hesitated only for a moment.

"…Amane," she said, quietly. "Amane Bakura."

XxXxX

Marik stared down at the book in front of him, trying to ignore the sound of running water coming from the bathroom and focus instead on his texts. But it was no use. He couldn't focus anymore, not after what had just happened. The girl had said little since Isis had brought her back, avoiding eye contact and not answering any questions. She had spoken exclusively in English, when she spoke at all. He tried to ignore the sound of Isis pacing back and forth in the kitchen, the phone in her hand.

The door to the bathroom opened, and the source of their current distress walked out, drying her hair with a towel. He glanced once at her, turning back to his books. She hung the towel up, shyly approaching him. He didn't look up, but he did move to the side a bit as he felt her weight settle onto the couch next to him.

"…So…" she said quietly, clasping her hands in front of her and staring at her fingers. "You…you know my brother?"

"We've met."

"How is he?"

"Fine," said Marik, "Last time I heard from him anyway." He thought about Bakura and decided not to bother Amane with it just yet. She would find out about it soon enough.

"That's good…" said Amane, quietly. "Um...it was really nice of your sister to lend me her clothes."

Marik turned towards Amane, his eyes moving over the familiar black pants and lavender shirt.

"Those are mine," he said flatly.

Her face flushed and she covered her with her hand, although for a moment he wasn't sure if it was because she was embarrassed or because she was hiding a snicker. "Oh…um…sorry…"

She settled down, and for a moment, Marik thought she was going to stay quiet, but then she spoke again. "…I…I'm sure he thinks I'm dead…" she said. "My brother, I mean…There was a traffic accident…maybe seven years ago. I was nine…"

He put down the book, knowing that he wasn't going to get any farther with the translation, and instead looked up at her. She met his eye for a moment before she looked away. "I wound up in Egypt somehow…" she said. "Back then…Pharoah Atem helped me a lot…I served him for a little while, and then he sent me back."

There was more to the story. He sensed it, but he didn't ask. Instead, he nodded. "I know him."

"You know him?" asked Amane, her eyes wide. "But he—."

"Sealed himself into the Millennium Puzzle," finished Marik, cutting her off. "I know. The Puzzle's been solved. The Pharaoh's been separated from his host. He has his own body now." He frowned, looking at Amane. She seemed relieved, for some reason, to hear what he had said. "…Your brother inherited the Millennium Ring," he continued. "He—."

Isis came out of the kitchen, interrupting him. She had the phone in her hand, a frown on her face. "It's for you," she said, handing it over to him. "It's Bakura."

Amane watched with interest as he held the phone up to his ear, turning his head away from her.

"Hello?" he asked.

"_Marik, this better be good," _growled Bakura impatiently. _"It's three in the bloody morning." _

Marik rolled his eyes. "Hello to you too, Fluffy," he said. "Wake your light. His sister's here."

"_His sister's dead_," said Bakura. _"Now, if you have any other useless information for me, leave a message. I'm hanging up." _

"Her name's Amane," said Marik. "And she's very much alive. So get Ryou, or I'll keep calling until you do."

There was silence on the other end of the line, and Marik could almost picture Bakura's scowl. But he grunted in assent, and Marik let out a small sigh of relief, glancing over at Amane, who was watching him with curious eyes.

"Thief King Bakura," he said in explanation. "That's what I wanted to tell you. He can be difficult."

Amane surprised him. "I know," she said with a small smile. "I met him."

He didn't have time to ask her what he meant by that, because another voice came on the line, this one softer.

"_Marik?" _

Marik took a deep breath, then told him everything. In half an hour, they had managed to come up with a preliminary plan. Amane didn't have a passport on her, so she couldn't fly to Japan, but Ryou could come and get her.

"_I'll talk to Kaiba in the morning…" _said Ryou. _"Maybe he can help." _

In the background, Bakura mumbled something about threatening him until he did. Ryou ignored him.

"_Tell…Tell Amane I'll be there for her soon." _

Marik frowned, glancing over at the girl. "You want to talk to her?" he asked.

Ryou's voice sounded just barely hopeful, as if he was afraid to be let down. _"If…if it's okay." _

Marik nodded, handing the phone over to her. "It's your brother," he said.

She took the phone from him with hands that shook slightly, pressing it to her ear.

"_O—Onii-chan?_" she asked tentatively.

On the other end of the line, Ryou let out the breath he was holding. _"Amane?" _he asked.

"Yeah…" said Amane, turning away from Marik and curling her knees up under herself as she cradled the phone next to her ear. "It's me. It's been a while. I missed you."

"_Yeah…it has…I…I missed you too." _

"How are you, onii-chan?"

"_I'm…" _Ryou hesitated. _"I'm fine, Amane. Everything's fine." _The word 'now' went unspoken. _"…Listen…it might take me a couple of days to get there, but no matter what, I will come for you, okay? I'm not going to leave you there. So, just…wait for me." _

"It's alright, onii-chan," said Amane, smiling slightly. "Take your time. I won't leave." The word 'again' went unspoken as well.

"_Alright…" _said Ryou. _"Good night. I'll see you soon." _

"Good night, nii-chan."

The line went dead.

Marik watched as she hung up the phone, a slightly disappointed look on her face. She handed it back to him, and he put it on the end table, along with the book he was supposed to be translating. He frowned at her, staring at her for a moment. Her face was pale and drawn, and there were dark circles around her eyes, as though she hadn't had a good sleep in a while. Given the time period she said she had come from, he could see why. She toyed idly with the bandage still around her arm.

"Are you injured?" he asked.

She shook her head. "It's a scar," she said. "I got it from someone's Ka. I don't like the way it looks."

"What were you doing going up against Ka?"

"I was in the way," said Amane.

"Can I see?" asked Marik, gesturing at the cloth bandage.

Amane hesitated, but nodded once, unrolling it. Two red lines wound around her right arm from wrist to elbow. They looked almost like claw marks. He stared at them. A wound like this would have been a major problem in the ancient world. He was surprised she still retained use of her arm. At a nod from him, she began wrapping the arm up again, her hand moving almost mechanically as she wound the cloth around it. He wondered how old the scar was, and how often she had done the same thing to hide it.

A thought occurred to him.

"When was the last time you ate?" he asked.

"Three thousand years ago."

He scowled. "No, you silly girl. I meant—." Marik paused, realizing that her green eyes were glinting mischievously, and there was a sly smile on her face. She giggled and he rolled his eyes, turning away.

"Ha ha. Very amusing."

"Twelve hours."

He glanced over at her.

"I think it was twelve hours," she clarified. "Although I'm not sure. Towards the end, things started getting a little chaotic…"

He raised an eyebrow as she trailed off. He was fairly certain what time period she had experienced. If he was right, 'chaotic' was an understatement. "Are you hungry?" he asked.

"A little," she admitted.

"Right," said Marik. He glanced at the clock, and then got to his feet. "Then come on." He took her by the wrist before she could protest, and Amane let out a squeak of surprise as she was pulled to her feet. "Sister!" called Marik. "I'm taking Amane into town."

"Alright!" called Isis from upstairs. "Drive carefully!"

"You really don't have to…" Amane began.

Marik didn't respond, but he did nod, grabbing his motorcycle keys and helmet from the shelf near the door. The helmet, he passed wordlessly to Amane as the two of them walked out the door, heading towards the area where Marik's bike was parked. Considering the last time she had been on a moving vehicle, it was probably better safe than sorry. She glanced from the helmet in her hands to the bike, her eyes growing wider as Marik released her long enough to head over to the bike and start it up.

"Is this yours?" she asked.

"Of course," said Marik, swinging his leg over the bike and starting the engine. It came to life with a growl. "Put on the helmet and get on. We don't have all day."

Amane nodded eagerly, placing the helmet on her head. He felt her settle behind him, a little uncertainly.

"Hold on," he said, revving the engine. He glanced behind to make sure she had the helmet on, then took off. The bike flew down the dirt lane, heading towards the collection of lights that marked the town. Amane let out a surprised shout as the bike started moving, her arms flying around his waist. A few moments later, though, she relaxed, leaning back slightly and loosening her grip. As they entered the town, he was surprised to hear her laugh, her hold on him now just the barest touch.

He pulled the bike into a space, killing the engine and throwing down the stand. Amane slid off on one side of the bike, mindful of the hot engine. She pulled the helmet off her head with both hands and shook out her hair, a grin on her face.

"That was fun!" she said, handing the helmet back to him.

He glanced at her. "It scared your brother half to death, the one time I had to bring him somewhere," he said, taking the helmet from her and securing it to the bike.

Amane laughed and leaned back slightly, lacing her fingers behind her neck. "It would," she said. "I always thought it would be fun to ride one when I was little. But no one in my family had one." She looked around the town, her eyes wide as she took in the sights. "Oh, wow. It looks so different!"

"Of course it does," he said. "It's been three thousand years."

"No need to be rude," said Amane with a grin. It seemed like the bike ride and the excitement of seeing the town had helped her get over some of her shyness. He stared at her for a moment, wondering what he had done, and what sort of monster he'd unleashed.

"So…" said Amane. "Where are we going?"

He gave her a sidelong glance. "Have you had koshari?"

"No," said Amane, frowning. "What's that?"

"Come on," said Marik, walking down the street and motioning for her to follow. "I'll show you."

XxXxX

**A/N: **Amane's true personality is starting to come out, now that she's getting over the shock of being in the present time again. Next chapter will be a little funnier, and will have some Tragedyshipping in it (which is the pairing in this story…if you haven't realized yet.) And don't worry, I'll explain what Amane was doing in ancient Egypt and how she got there in due time. It's part of the mystery~

**Note: **Mystwalker needs continual feeding of reviews to function. Please review. Thank you.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Ties That Bind Us**

**By: **

**Mystwalker**

**A/N: **And YGOTAS references are present in this chapter too. I was originally going to have Marik order the kedah/kebab, but he's a vegetarian in the canon, so…oh well.

Amane's first chapter personality doesn't really line up with the personality I have planned for her in the future. So chalk it up to her being completely out of her element.

By the way, I need to ask. Do you guys prefer English names (Tea, Joey, Tristan) or Japanese names (Anzu, Jounouchi, Honda)? It doesn't really matter at this point, but it will when they get to Domino City.

Reviews are appreciated!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Yugioh.

The restaurant was barely more than a hole in the wall, lit by the glow of several fluorescent lights and furnished with plastic tables and chairs. The door was opened to let in the cool desert air. Amane ate ravenously, paying no heed to the less than stellar establishment. After seven years in ancient Egypt, any technology was something, and she hadn't realized how hungry she was until they entered the restaurant and the smell of onions and cooking meat reached her.

Koshari turned out to be an Egyptian dish made of rice, lentils, and chickpeas, although it wasn't old enough to have been present during the time period she experienced. Marik had mentioned it was his favorite. She and Marik had each gotten a serving, and she had gotten a kebab on the side. Earlier, she had been starving, but now, as she looked uncertainly at her plate, she wondered if she might not have gotten too much food.

"You want some of this?" she asked, gesturing at the skewer.

Marik made a face. "I'm vegetarian," he said.

"Oh," said Amane. She took a bite of food, chewing and swallowing. "Why? Do you like animals?"

Marik smirked. "No," he said, stabbing at his plate with his plastic fork. "I just hate plants."

Amane laughed at the remark, staring down at her plate again. "Oh, come on. Are you sure?"

"More than sure," said Marik.

"Well, I can't finish it," said Amane, frowning.

"So don't," said Marik with a shrug. "Wrap up the kedah and eat it tomorrow."

"I guess I can," said Amane. She paused, halfway to bringing her fork to her mouth. "Wait, what did you just call it?"

"A kedah."

"It's a kebab," said Amane.

"Says who?"

"Says everyone."

"Everyone's wrong," said Marik.

"Marik, it's quite clearly on the sign," said Amane with a frustrated frown, gesturing at the English letters on the menu.

"You're British. You don't know how to pronounce things."

"And you're a vegetarian, so you don't get a say," retorted Amane, taking a bite of her meal.

"Whatever," said Marik, rolling his eyes. "Be wrong, then."

Amane sighed in resignation, poking her food around the plate. They ate in silence for a while, the only sound coming from the ceiling fan spinning overhead and the occasional murmuring in Arabic coming from the other customers. Amane didn't understand their words—Arabic hadn't been introduced into Egypt during the Pharaoh's time period—but she could guess at their meaning. She wasn't exactly a usual sight in a local restaurant, with her pale skin, non-traditional clothing and shock of white hair. Marik, however, did understand them, judging from the way his eyes flicked towards them and he glared.

She kept her eyes on them too, but less obviously.

"…This is really good," she said to break the tension, turning towards him. "What did you call it again?"

"Koshari," said Marik. "It's common street food."

"Now, are you sure that's what it's called, or is that just how you pronounce it?" she teased, smiling.

Marik blinked at her. "Very funny," he said. "But I'm telling you. I'm right."

"Keep telling yourself that," said Amane, still smiling. She took one last bite of her food, pushing the remaining pieces together. Marik watched her, laying his fork down.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"More or less," said Amane, getting up. "I just need to get this wrapped up."

"I'll do it," said Marik, getting up and taking the plate from her.

"I can—," began Amane.

Marik glanced over at her, not facing her fully. "Let me," he said. "You don't speak the language. I'll get it done faster." He frowned, glancing over at the men seated at the other tables for a moment.

"Stay next to me," he muttered under his breath, walking towards the counter. Amane glanced at the men as well, before nodding once and following him. She didn't ask why. Seven years in Ancient Egypt had taught her that sometimes it was best to follow instructions and ask questions later. She stood one step behind him and to the right as he spoke to the man at the counter, glancing once at the people at the other tables again.

Her fingers curled loosely inwards as she turned away from them, watching Marik again.

So even back in her own time, there were still dangers…

"Alright, let's head out," said Marik, handing her a brown paper bag. Amane took the bag with one hand, nodding at him.

"Where to?" she asked as they left the restaurant, emerging back in the streets of the town.

Marik gestured at a small store across the street. "We might as well pick up some supplies while we're out here," he explained as she followed him across. "We don't know how long it'll be until your brother gets here."

Amane nodded, accepting the explanation. The store was a small, crowded room tucked between two other buildings. There didn't seem to be any other customers, and the man behind the counter looked up sleepily as the two of them entered. She looked around. Some of the usual tourist trap items were on sale, as well as a couple racks of clothing tucked away in a corner. At Marik's direction, she went off and selected a couple of things that she could wear while waiting for Ryou. They weren't particularly high-quality clothes, but they were wearable.

She tossed an off-white dress into the basket, looking around for Marik. He was thumbing through some magazines on the other side of the store, so she ignored him for now, going over to look at some of the other items available. There were packets of cards on a rack near the counter. Amane moved closer to those, picking one of them up and reading the name on the packet.

Duel Monsters?

She frowned, glancing at the picture on the cover. Her eyes widened slightly, and she ran a thumb over the image.

Dark Magician?

Why was Mahaado's Ka on display?

"It's a trading card game," said Marik from behind her.

Amane jumped and nearly dropped the packet of cards, mentally scolding herself for her lack of spatial awareness. She turned around to face him, a slight frown on her face.

"It's based off the ancient Spirit Games you probably witnessed," said Marik. "It became popular a few years ago. Your brother plays it…sort of. It's mainly Bakura that plays competitively."

"Do you play?" asked Amane.

"Of course," said Marik, folding his arms. "I was second place in the last tournament I entered."

"But you didn't win?" asked Amane.

"I lost to the Pharaoh," said Marik. "And that's really all you need to know about that time."

Amane raised an eyebrow, but didn't ask, turning back to look at the cards. She had a feeling that it wasn't something he was particularly proud of, although she couldn't guess why. Second place seemed like a good way to finish a tournament. Maybe he was just competitive. She put down the packet with the Dark Magician on the front, picking up another pack and looking it over.

"Here," said Marik, coming to stand next to her. "Pick out a starter deck and a few booster packs. I'll show you how to play."

"Really?" asked Amane.

Marik shrugged. "Why not?"

She frowned in thought and reached out, her hand hovering over the starter packs before she finally decided on one. She picked it up and tossed it into the basket, followed by three of the smaller packs that she thought looked interesting.

"Done," she said when she had finished, turning around to face him. He was holding something in his hand, she realized. Something white. "What's that?" she asked, pointing towards it.

He held it up for her. "It's a glove," he said, tossing it into the basket. "For your arm. It should cover that up nicely."

Amane smiled, picking it up and looking it over. It was a fingerless white glove, long enough to cover her whole arm from wrist to elbow. She smiled at Marik, setting it down in the basket. "Thanks, Marik," she said. "It's a nice thought."

Marik immediately glanced away. "Well, don't get any ideas," he said. "It's just…I understand wanting to cover up a scar." He had a look on his face that she associated with unpleasant memories and dark thoughts. She didn't ask. "Look, are you done?" he asked, sounding suddenly impatient. "We should be getting back. They're closing soon."

"I'm ready," said Amane, nodding and holding up the basket.

Marik took the basket from her, turning away and walking off to the counter.

XxXxX

"So…I…can summon this monster now?" asked Amane hesitantly, holding up a card.

"Sure," said Marik, nodding dismissively without looking at it. "But remember, you can only summon one monster per turn, and if it's above level 4, you need to use a tribute."

"Right," said Amane, nodding. "Unless I have a spell, trap card, or effect that says otherwise."

The two of them were sitting cross-legged on the floor, facing each other across the low coffee table. A duel had been set up on the table between them. It was slow going at first, as he had had to explain everything to Amane, but she was slowly picking it up.

"So…I summon this," said Amane, setting down a monster.

Marik frowned at it. "In attack mode?" he asked.

"Oh, you're right," said Amane, glancing at it. "Okay, so…its attack is lower than your monsters, but its defense is higher, so…I summon it in defense position." She frowned, biting her lip in concentration as she turned the card around.

"It has a flip effect."

"Facedown defense position," corrected Amane, flipping it over. She stared down at her hand. "And I can use as many spell cards as I want?" she asked.

"As long as the conditions are met," said Marik.

Amane nodded. "But I have to set trap cards first. So…I put this one facedown."

"You realize, you just told me that that's a trap card, right?" asked Marik, gesturing at the card.

"Oh, hush," said Amane. "I'm new at this." She glanced down at her hand one more time before nodding. "Okay. I end my turn."

"I sacrifice my monster," said Marik, replacing his monster with a higher leveled one. "And I attack your facedown card."

"I activate its effect," said Amane, flipping the card over. "You lose life points."

"Fine by me," said Marik with a shrug, writing it down on the notepad beside them. He gestured at another monster on the field. "I attack you directly."

"And I activate my trap card," said Amane, smiling as she flipped the card over. "So your attack is negated."

Marik nodded. "I end my turn," he said.

"Okay," said Amane. She grinned, looking down at her hand. "So I activate Call of the Haunted. That lets me bring back my monster."

"In attack position," added Marik.

"Right, in attack position," said Amane, putting the monster back on the field. "So I sacrifice this monster to summon Darkness Destroyer, and I attack that monster!" She pointed at the higher leveled one. "Then, I activate the Domino Effect, and destroy that monster too. And since Darkness Destroyer can attack twice, I attack you directly."

She smiled, pleased with herself as she put her hand face down on the table. Marik stared down at the field, a small smirk appearing on his face as he shook his head.

"Sneaky," he said.

"I know," said Amane, sitting back on her heels.

He picked up Darkness Destroyer as if to look at the effect. "And also illegal."

Amane blinked, her face falling. "What?" she asked.

He held the card between two fingers, turning it over with a smug smirk on his face. "Darkness Destroyer requires two tributes. And Domino Effect only works if you sacrifice a monster too."

"Really?" she asked, staring down at the cards. Her eyes widened, and she muttered a word in Egyptian that made Marik look up sharply. "Almost had it," she said, snapping her fingers.

"It was a good thought," said Marik. He frowned at her, looking over her expression. "I'm starting to see the family resemblance."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Amane, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," said Marik. He slid his legs out from under the coffee table, getting to his feet. "Think of your next move. I'll go see if my sister needs anything."

Amane nodded once, going back to looking at her cards and muttering under her breath. Marik glanced at her, then made his way back up the stairs to Isis's room. The older Ishtar hadn't said much to them since she returned. Although Isis no longer regaled them with visions of the future, she still had a tendency to act rather mysterious sometimes.

He knocked on the door before opening it. Isis was going through her wardrobe, as if she was looking for something. She looked up as he entered.

"Having fun?" she asked, a small smile appearing on her face.

"She's a quick learner," said Marik with a shrug, folding his arms.

"It's nice to see you talking to someone your own age," said Isis. "Odion and I worry sometimes."

"There's nothing to worry about," said Marik with a frown. "It's not like I have a lot of people to talk to."

"You've withdrawn even more since Battle City. That's all I'm saying," said Isis. "I think it's nice that Amane is helping you come out of your shell a little."

"I'm not _in _a shell," said Marik, starting to feel frustrated. "I've told you before. Everything's fine."

"Of course, but it's my job to worry," said Isis. "Go see to your guest. I'll be done here in a minute."

"What are you looking for anyway?" asked Marik, frowning at the boxes lying on her bed.

"Something Amane reminded me of," said Isis. "Don't worry about it."

Marik's frown deepened, but he nodded, turning around and closing the door behind him. When Isis didn't want to talk about something, continuing to ask wasn't going to help. He walked down the stairs towards the living room, intending to continue their duel.

He found Amane slumped over the coffee table, fast asleep. Her head was pillowed on her arms, her cards hanging loosely from her hand. She breathed softly, her thick white hair framing her face. Marik frowned, staring down at her. She had seemed so excited earlier. He had almost forgotten how tired she looked.

But she couldn't sleep there.

He reached over, gently shaking her shoulder. Amane opened her eyes, blinking up at him.

"You fell asleep," he said. "Go upstairs and go to bed. We'll finish this in the morning." For emphasis, he grabbed the cards from her hand, folding them into one stack and setting them aside. Amane sat back on her heels, rubbing her eyes.

"What about you?" she asked, sleepily.

"I'll take the couch."

"Alright," she said, getting up. "Good night, Marik."

"Good night," he said in reply, watching her walk up the stairs. When she was gone, he turned out the light and plopped down on the couch, closing his eyes and covering them with his hand. He opened his eyes a moment later, staring up at the ceiling as his eyes slowly adjusted to the gloom.

Isis was being stupid. He hadn't withdrawn. He just hadn't had anyone to talk to.

That in mind, he turned over, falling into an uneasy sleep.

XxXxX

Marik sat up as his ringtone suddenly blasted through the air, shattering the dream he was having and waking him up from sleep. He ran a hand over his face and rolled over onto his side, grabbing his phone from its spot on the end table. He didn't even look to know who it was. Why on earth did he ever think One Winged Angel would be a funny ringtone for Bakura?

"Bakura, what do you want? It's three in the morning!"

Bakura sounded particularly smug. _"Payback's a bitch, tomb keeper," _he said.

Marik scowled, running a hand through his hair. "Just tell me what you want."

"_Oh, just thought I'd inform you that we'll be boarding Kaiba's jet as soon as it's ready. We should arrive in Egypt at your…ten o'clock." _

"Great…" said Marik. "And you couldn't have told me this at…say…six or seven?"

"_I told you, Marik," _said Bakura. _"Payback's a bitch." _

The line went dead.

Marik sighed, pulling his phone away from his ear and staring at the screen. Stupid Ra-damned thief. He glanced over at the table next to him, and at the two decks of cards that still lay there, the duel half-finished. He hadn't expected Kaiba to agree so soon. It mustn't have been a particularly busy season for Kaiba Corp.

Ten in the morning…

He frowned, rolling over onto his other side and turning away from the duel table as he put the phone away. Good. Amane would be reunited with her brother sooner rather than later, and she would be out of his hair.

It wasn't as if he was disappointed or anything. He would be glad to see the back of her.

His frown deepened into a scowl as he threw the blanket Isis had given him further over his shoulders, closing his eyes and attempting to go back to sleep.

XxXxX

**A/N: **A note on Marik's reactions in the restaurant. Western women in modern day Egypt are usually thought of as being promiscuous, due to portrayal in the media, so female travelers are advised to wear loose clothing and warned that men might try to make advances. Since Amane is obviously Western, the other men in the restaurant were discussing something along those lines, and Marik was not too happy about that.

**Note: **Mystwalker needs continual feeding of reviews to function. Please review. Thank you.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Ties That Bind Us**

**By: **

**Mystwalker**

**A/N: **Next chapter, they'll be in Japan getting settled, and then I'll have a time skip and the plot will pick up. Please review!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Yugioh.

XxXxX

"So you haven't told her?" asked Isis, setting the cup down in front of her brother. Marik picked it up, taking a small sip and shaking his head. She frowned. "Why not?"

Marik shrugged. "It would be a nice surprise," he said.

"Where is Amane now?" she asked, keeping an eye on her brother.

Another shrug. "Changing, I guess. Why does it matter?"

The door to the kitchen opened, and the girl in question opened the room. Amane was dressed in the clothes she had obtained in town, a white dress that came down to her knees, a pair of brown sandals and a light green vest. She tugged at the glove on her right arm as she walked in, adjusting it so that it was pinned down by the gold bracer she still wore. Although it was early in the morning, the girl's eyes were alert.

"The glove fits perfectly, Marik," she said with a smile as she took the seat next to him, holding her hand up to her face and showing him. "Thanks for getting it for me."

Marik glanced at it once, then placed his hands on the table and pushed himself to his feet. "Good," he said, distractedly. He turned towards Isis and gave her a meaningful look. "I need to check on something outside." He turned around, walking out of the room. The kitchen door closed with a click behind him.

The change in Amane's mood was immediate. The girl's face fell, her smile quickly turning into a scowl as she watched him go. "What's his _problem_?" she asked.

Isis sighed, placing a hand over her eyes. There was a time when she had been the person who knew Marik best. But that time was past. She had known the child who would become Marik Ishtar. After that disastrous event in the tomb, she thought she had lost her brother. Now, she was beginning to get him back, but it wasn't the same.

She had been hoping that Amane would help bring part of him back, but with her leaving so soon, it seemed like he would rather disengage completely.

"I apologize for my brother," she said, setting a bowl down in front of Amane. "He has things that he's dealing with."

"Well, yeah, so do I," grumbled Amane, stabbing at the porridge Isis had given her with her spoon. "But I'm being _nice _about it."

"You never did explain how you got sent here," said Isis.

Amane frowned, lifting her spoon to her mouth. "I told you," she said. "Before the Pharaoh sealed himself away into the Puzzle, he sent me back to my own time."

"I understand that," said Isis. "What I'm curious about is how you came to be in Pharaoh Atem's company in the first place."

Amane fell silent, as Isis predicted she would. The girl lowered her eyes and scowled slightly, mechanically shoving food into her mouth. Isis recognized the expression on her face. It was the same look of stubborn reticence that Marik took on when something was bothering him and he refused to talk about it. Again, it made Isis wish that the two wouldn't be separated so soon.

Marik needed a friend. He needed the company of people his own age. Isis understood that. It was why she hoped her plan would succeed. She knew already that Amane would never be part of the group that Marik so disdainfully called the Friendship Brigade. She had been hurt, in her own way, and in her own way she was dealing with it. Their happy-go-lucky attitude towards life would probably only end up being off-putting

And from what Isis had read, she guessed that their stories ran more alongside each other than either of them thought.

Isis waited for the girl to finish eating before she spoke. "Come with me," she said. "I have something to show you."

Amane frowned at Isis with confusion laced with a small amount of suspicion, before nodding once and pushing herself to her feet. She followed Isis out the door and up the stairs, her eyes lingering for a moment on the window that faced the front of the house. Isis glanced at it as well as she passed. Marik stood outside the window, standing out and facing the desert as if he was waiting for something. Amane's frown deepened and she turned away, stomping a little harder on the first step than she needed to as she followed Isis up the stairs.

Isis walked into her bedroom, heading for the small chest she had placed on her desk the night before. She glanced up in time to see Amane step cautiously into the room, her arms folded. Isis glanced away, turning back to the chest.

"I hope you won't see this as an invasion of your privacy," said Isis. "Know that I and my family have been entrusted with the Pharaoh's secrets for many years. I have spent a large amount of time studying the Pharaoh's life, his companions, and how they related to the events that took place just last year. As such, I know a fair amount about the company he kept, and the people that served him."

Amane immediately tensed. Isis saw her hands clench into fists at her side, her green eyes narrowing dangerously. She could sense the danger in the room immediately escalating. However, Isis had faced more dangerous individuals and more dangerous beings before. She did not react, coolly opening the chest and taking its contents into her hand.

"That's why I believe you should have these," he said, handing the cards to Amane.

Amane blinked, the tension in the room immediately dissipating as she took the cards from Isis, her eyes wide as she looked at the monsters on them. Her breath caught in her throat, and in that moment, she didn't look dangerous anymore. She simply looked like what she was—a scared fifteen-year-old girl.

"…You know…" she said.

Isis smiled, nodding. "I know."

"And you still…" There was guilt in her voice now. Isis's smile grew softer.

"I have played host to more dangerous individuals than yourself," she said. "Anything you did, you did in the Pharaoh's service. It was what would have been called a necessary evil."

Amane's shoulders trembled slightly. Isis placed a comforting hand on her. "You haven't told Marik?" she asked.

Amane shook her head. "I don't want him to know," she said. "He'll tell my brother. I don't want him to ever find out. That's why I didn't want to go back. And I told Atem so. I would have…I would have…"

"You would have kept on fighting," said Isis, sympathetically.

"Always."

"It would have been a losing battle," said Isis, gently tilting the girl's face up to face her. "History tells us that now."

Amane said turning away. There were tears in her eyes. Isis sighed. "It wasn't your place, Amane," she said. "Those events were set into motion long before you were even born. You couldn't have changed them. You simply had to play your part in them. And now your part is over and you're home. You get to see your brother again. Aren't you happy about that?"

"I am," said Amane, "I am…but I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"…He won't like me anymore. Because I'm not the same as I was. I've changed."

"Well, Amane, he's changed too," said Isis. "You both will need to figure this out together. But I know the both of you care for each other a lot. You'll make a way." Amane seemed to relax, although she was still uncertain. Isis waited for the weight of her words to sink in, before speaking again. "Do you recognize the monster cards?" she asked.

"Of course," said Amane, a small smile on her face. Her voice shook slightly as she ran her hand over the card. "They are Ka. Mine. Thank you, Isis. You've done so much for me. Both you, and the you from before." She frowned slightly. "I never got to thank the other you."

"It is my pleasure," said Isis. "And I'm sure my past incarnate would have said the same thing." She leaned forward, hugging Amane close. The girl tensed, unsure how to react. Outside, she could already hear the sound of an approaching plane.

"_Good luck, Shadow," _she said in Egyptian, slowly releasing her. The airplane sound grew louder and louder, the wind from its passing rattling the windows somewhat and sending sand flying everywhere. Amane turned towards the window, her eyes wide. Isis followed her gaze, taking a step back.

"Come," she said. "I believe it's time to meet your brother."

XxXxX

Marik watched as the Blue Eyes White Dragon jet landed neatly on the patch of desert outside of the tomb, a frown on his face as he closed his eyes against the jet of sand. He opened them as he felt the sand clear, his scowl growing as the door opened and the stairs were lowered.

Bakura stepped out first, a bored look on his face. He wore the Millennium Ring around his neck, the gold glinting bright in the sunlight. Marik scowled as Bakura got to the ground, standing in front of him.

"You're late," said Marik.

"And you're short-tempered this morning," said Bakura, a smug smirk appearing on his face. "Did you not get enough sleep?"

Sometimes, Marik wanted to throttle the thief.

Ryou stepped off the jet next, an uncertain frown on his face. The two of them looked almost like twins, and as far as Marik knew, that was indeed what they posed as to outsiders on occasion, but the differences between them were readily apparent to anyone who knew them closely.

"Hello, Marik," said Ryou.

"Hello, Ryou," said Marik. "You're looking…well…"

Ryou looked like he hadn't had much sleep either. Marik guessed that he hadn't slept since their earlier conversation.

"You as well," said Ryou. "Where is she?"

Marik glanced behind him. Amane stood hesitantly in the door, Isis standing behind her. When she saw him looking, her eyes moved past him, landing on Ryou. They widened, and she took off at a run.

"Onii-chan!" she said, running up to him.

Ryou's eyes widened as well, and he opened his arms just in time to catch her as she launched herself at him, quickly wrapping his arms around her and swinging around to keep from being thrown off balance by her momentum. They embraced for a moment, and then the siblings came apart, looking at each other. Ryou, in particular, stared at Amane, as if he couldn't believe she was real.

"You grew out your hair," said Amane, reaching out and touching it.

Ryou's voice cracked. "And you cut yours," he said, placing his hand on her head.

"You're taller."

"So are you."

"I'm sorry…" said Amane.

"It's okay…" said Ryou, bringing her close and hugging her again. He buried his face in her hair, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. Amane rested her head on his chest, her eyes closed as well. "It's okay now…" he muttered. "It's okay."

Marik rolled his eyes, making a face. The reunion was disgustingly sweet. They needed to hurry up and get out of here so he could go back to his peace and quiet. And maybe finally get some freaking peace of mind. Clearly, Bakura seemed to be thinking something along the same lines. He cleared his throat, coughing impatiently into his fist. The siblings reluctantly let go of each other, both of them wiping at her eyes. Marik was horrified to find that both had been crying.

Isis came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder, a smile on her face. Marik glanced back at her, giving her a look that plainly said "I am not giving you a hug."

"Amane, this is Bakura," said Ryou, gesturing at Bakura and placing his free hand on Amane's back. "He's…how do I explain this…?"

"I'm your brother's dark side," said Bakura with a sinister smirk. "And his worst nightmare."

"Yes, yes, you're properly terrifying and all that," said Ryou with a sigh, waving his hand in the air dismissively. "Stop scaring my little sister."

"She needs to know what to expect if she's going to be living with us," argued Bakura, still smirking.

"I already know about you," said Amane, turning towards Bakura. "Marik told me. We've met…sort of."

Bakura raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything, folding his arms over the Ring.

"Can we hurry this up?" asked an impatient voice from inside the jet. "I have important business to attend to."

Marik looked up at the same time as the others did. Seto Kaiba stood in the doorway of the jet, his usual haughty expression on his face. Ryou nodded and smiled slightly, turning to face Kaiba. "Amane, Seto Kaiba. Kaiba, Amane."

Amane's eyes moved from Kaiba to the dragon-shaped jet and back to Kaiba. A grin spread over her face.

"Oh," she said. "Oh, I get it."

Kaiba stared down at her. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing," said Amane, giggling slightly as if she alone understood the joke. "Nothing at all."

"We'll be there in a minute, Kaiba," promised Ryou. He turned towards Marik, looking apologetic. "Marik, Isis, I'm sorry I can't stay…" he began.

Marik shrugged. "You came to get your sister," he said. "You've got her. There's nothing more to do here."

Ryou looked uncertain. Amane frowned at him. Marik avoided her eyes, keeping his own on Ryou. There was really no reason for her to frown at him like that. It wasn't as if the two of them were friends, or as if he had wanted her to stay.

From behind Ryou, Bakura slipped his hands into his pockets, giving Marik an 'I'm not buying it look'. Marik glared at the tomb robber in response.

"Well, goodbye then," said Ryou.

"Goodbye Ryou, Amane," said Isis, smiling from behind him. "Have a safe journey." Her eyes turned towards Bakura as he moved to join them. "And you as well, Bakura."

"Hn," grunted Bakura in reply.

"Thank you for everything, Isis," said Amane. She turned towards him hesitantly. "Marik…"

Marik sighed inwardly, looking up. Her green eyes met his, and he nodded once. "See you," he said, offhandedly. _Not._

Ryou turned, and began to shepherd Amane onto the jet, Bakura following behind them. From behind him, Isis sighed, her hand tightening around his shoulder. "Marik," she said, in a tone of voice that made him look up.

"What?" he asked.

"I've been thinking about this," said Isis, "And you should go."

Marik's eyes widened. "_What_?" he asked. Had his sister gone completely insane?

"_What?" _echoed Bakura, whirling around to face her.

"Listen," said Isis, holding up a hand to stop his protests. "Odion is preparing an exhibit for transport to Domino City. It should hopefully be there in the next few months. The Museum will need a translator. I planned on going myself, but…you should go."

"Have you lost your mind?" asked Marik.

"Yes, I agree, have you _lost it_?" asked Bakura.

"Yami…" said Ryou in a cautious tone. The two siblings had stopped on the first step, and were now looking back at them, Ryou's hand on Amane's gloved arm.

Isis ignored Bakura, turning to face Marik. She placed both her hands on his shoulders. "Marik, you are more than qualified, and it will be good for you to be around people your own age."

"Yes, people I mind-controlled and tried to kill. That's a brilliant idea, sister. I can't believe I never thought of it!" exclaimed Marik sarcastically.

"Marik, you're never going to be free of this if you don't face it," said Isis, sternly. "You can attempt to live a normal life for once. It's a greater opportunity than I had been given."

Marik couldn't help it. He laughed. It was a frustrated, twisted laugh, but it was still a laugh. Bakura laughed too, damn him, but he was actually amused. Marik wondered how many friends he would make if he stabbed the thief.

Ryou might be upset, but he couldn't really see anyone else minding.

"I'm serious, Marik," said Isis, the only one out of the three of them who was decidedly unamused. "I don't like seeing you the way you are out here. Being so close to this place is killing you. So please."

"Do you want to get rid of me that badly?" asked Marik.

"I want what's best for you," said Isis. "I've always wanted that. My place is here. But it's stifling you."

"Whoever's getting on this jet better get on in the next five minutes or I'm leaving!" threatened Kaiba from inside.

Ryou and Amane immediately turned their heads, startled. Ryou gave Isis and Marik another apologetic look, before hurrying up the steps. Bakura followed them, smirking widely at Marik before taking the steps slowly. Marik scowled, about to turn away, but Isis grabbed his wrist to stop him.

"One year," she said. "Finish one school year. The exhibit will be gone by then, and you can decide what you want to do."

Marik glanced back at her, frowning. "One school year?" he asked. "That's it?"

Isis nodded.

"And then you'll admit that this was a bad idea and let me do what I want?"

"If it turns out that way, yes," said Isis.

Marik scowled, glancing up at the jet and then back at his sister. "I don't like the idea of you being here alone," he said.

"Marik, I've certainly not become so useless that I need to rely on my younger brother," said Isis, smiling at him. "Odion will be back soon. I can handle myself until then."

Marik sighed, torn. Bakura poked his head out of the jet, turning towards him. "Two minutes, Ishtar!" he called. "Make up your bloody mind!"

Marik stared at Isis for a moment before sighing in resignation, walking away. "Fine!" he yelled. "But I'm bringing my bike!"

Ten minutes later, the motorcycle had been loaded into the dragon jet, Marik had exchanged a quick farewell with Isis and a promise to call, and Kaiba was getting more frustrated with each minute that passed his original deadline. The tomb keeper quickly got into the jet, dropping into the nearest seat and tossing the bag he had hastily packed into an empty chair.

"Finally," said the CEO, sighing in relief. "Let's get out of here."

Marik closed his eyes and leaning his head back as the jet took to the skies. Across from him, Ryou and Amane were sitting together, exchanging stories about the details of their lives apart. He turned his head and looked out at the window, trying to tune them out. In front of them, Kaiba was already involved in a conference call, the CEO apparently never having heard an airline safety message in his life. He still couldn't believe what he'd gotten himself into.

This was going to be a long flight.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Ties That Bind Us**

**By: **

**Mystwalker**

**A/N: **Slight retcon here, Amane was _eight_, not _nine_ at the time of the disastrous car crash. I'm also using the Japanese names for the other characters in this one because even though I'm more used to their English names, the little writer inside of me can't seem to reconcile the fact that they're in Japan with the fact that they have English names. Sorry if that bothers anyone.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Yugioh.

XxXxX

It was dark again by the time they arrived in Japan, the country being about 7 hours ahead of Cairo in time. Marik was looking forward to actually seeing the sun tomorrow. The constant darkness was oppressive, reminding him too much of the tomb he had grown up in. Of course, tomorrow would bring its own challenges, like trying to find a place to live, or going to school. _School_. Honestly. Of all of the stupid ideas Isis could come up with.

"We can get you and Amane set up right away," said Ryou as they walked down the sidewalk. "Marik, you can borrow one of my uniforms, and Amane, I talked to Jounouchi, a boy in my year. He says you should be able to borrow one of his sister's uniforms. Shizuka-san is going to be in your year, and she said she'd show you around. Marik—."

"Yes, Ryou, that's great. Whatever it is is just great," said Marik sarcastically. He muttered a curse under his breath as the wheel of his bike twisted, the whole thing nearly falling over. The Egyptian boy kept his hands on the handlebars, pushing it steadily down the road. The siblings had insisted on walking, which left Marik in the awkward position of having to drag his bike beside them. He had considered letting Bakura ride with him, just so that he didn't have to drag the bike and would still have someone who could let him into the house, but Bakura had told him in no uncertain terms that the only way that that would happen would be if he was driving.

And it would be a cold day in the Sahara before Marik let the thief—or anybody for that matter—drive his bike.

"Reconsidered yet?" asked Bakura as Marik painstakingly maneuvered the bike around a bump in the road.

"Shut up! You are not driving!" snapped Marik.

"It was just a thought."

Marik rolled his eyes. Amane flashed him a small smile as she and Ryou walked ahead of them, hand in hand. He noticed idly that although the two of them seemed happy to see each other, there was a slight hesitance in their interactions, as if they didn't know what to make of each other. Amane walked on Ryou's right, keeping her gloved arm away from him.

Then there was Bakura who walked behind them, watching with a frown on his face that told Marik he was thinking something over. He hadn't said much on the walk over, aside from his usual taunts.

Amane had met him in the past. He wondered, not for the first time, how that had turned out.

They were at the house now, a modest home in Domino's suburbs. Marik sighed in relief, grateful for the driveway as he turned his bike onto it. He stretched, loosening stiff muscles, as Ryou dug around in his pocket for his keys.

"The house isn't much, but you do have your own room," said Ryou as he found his keys, sorting through them. "Father bought it when he decided to move back to Japan. It has three bedrooms, supposedly one for him and Mother, one for you, and one for me. But after the…accident…it was mostly just me living here alone."

"All by yourself?" asked Amane, frowning as she turned towards him.

Ryou nodded. "Father comes by when he can, but it was just me for a while. And my yami eventually." He acknowledged the former spirit with a nod. Bakura smirked, placing his hand on his hip.

"Yes, hikari, I live here too. Now are you going to get on with it, or am I going to have to break in for you?"

Ryou rolled his eyes. "You have your own set of keys, so I don't see what you're on about," he said. He did move forward, though, fitting the key into the lock and turning it. Marik turned his head to hide his smirk at Bakura's sudden glare. Ryou had been a pushover for a full two weeks after he and the spirit had been separated, before he discovered that the only way he was ever going to get some semblance of order back into his life would be to push back. The two of them now reportedly got along alright, although they did occasionally bicker like cats and dogs. Marik privately thought that Bakura liked Ryou's newly-recovered backbone, but he didn't share those thoughts out loud.

"Anyway, as I was saying," said Ryou, flipping on the lights and stepping into the foyer. He slipped off his shoes and placed them by the door. Amane and Bakura followed suit. Marik hesitated for a moment before slipping his own shoes off as well. "I called Father. He says he'll come as soon as he possibly can, but for now, you still have your old room." He hesitated for a moment, clearing his throat. "I…that is, we…never touched it…when Yami and I got separate bodies, I moved into the master bedroom."

"What do you do when Father comes?" asked Amane, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and following Ryou into the living room.

"I share with my yami," said Ryou, shrugging. "We've shared a body, so a room for a week or so is nothing. We just prefer to have our own space."

"I still can't believe you inherited the Ring," said Amane. "I mean, I knew—I figured that Bakura was your past incarnation, but I didn't think—."

"Didn't think I was that persistent?" asked Bakura, jumping onto the couch and putting his feet up.

"Didn't think you were that _obsessive_," corrected Amane with a grin as she looked over her shoulder at him.

Bakura frowned for a moment as if he was deciding whether or not he considered that an insult. Apparently, he decided it wasn't, because he shrugged, picking up the remote and cycling through the TV channels.

"Marik, you're welcome to the couch until you can find a place, if you can get Yami off of it."

Bakura gave Marik a look that plainly said 'come and try'. Ryou folded his arms, and although Marik couldn't hear it, he could imagine the mental back and forth that was going on between the two of them.

"Where's the bathroom?" asked Amane, interrupting.

"It's upstairs, the second door on the right," said Ryou, turning towards her. "I'll be up in a minute to help you get settled."

Amane nodded, making a hasty exit. Ryou sighed, glancing at the TV.

"Why are you even watching this, anyway?" he asked. "Shouldn't you be studying for the Japanese history test?"

"Why?" asked Bakura. "You already know the answers. I'll just get them from your mind."

"I am _not _helping you cheat."

"It's not cheating if you're technically the same person."

Ryou sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright," he said, turning away and walking towards the stairs. "If you're content with letting the Pharaoh get a higher score than you, I suppose I can't do much else."

There was a pause, and then Bakura jumped up from the couch, brushing past Ryou and walking up the stairs. Ryou waited until he heard the door to Bakura's room slam shut, then glanced over at Marik. Marik blinked in surprise as he saw the white-haired British teen raise a hand to his mouth and…chuckle?

"There should be a blanket and pillows in the storage closet," he said, "Help yourself to what's in the kitchen, and let me know if you need anything else. I'll be right down."

Ryou walked past Marik, making his way up the stairs and following Amane.

Marik watched Ryou go, a slightly amused smile on his face as he took his place on the couch before Bakura could reclaim it.

Reincarnation indeed.

XxXxX

Bakura crept into the dark room, the shadows hiding his movements as he stepped behind the figure. She stood with her back towards him, facing the window. The room was completely silent, the only light coming from the streetlight outside. He smirked, his hand going towards the knife he had brought. He drew it in one rapid motion, slashing out at her.

In an instant, she moved, whirling around sharply to face him. Her hand moved, pushing his knife hand down and away from her as her free hand immediately snatched something up from her desk and bringing it up to his neck.

They froze in place, staring at each other.

Bakura's smirk widened as he met Amane's green eyes. The girl stared back, unfazed. He remembered the last time he had found himself in this position, except that time, she had had a real knife, and that time, she had come to kill him. She could never have, he knew, just as he knew that she wouldn't kill him now.

"Looks like you're still sharp," he commented.

"Hm," said Amane, "I should be saying that to you. What's been two days for me was three thousand years for you."

"Give or take," said Bakura. His eyes moved towards the object she held angled towards his neck, and he chuckled. "A pencil?" he asked. "Really?"

"It would have worked," said Amane, frowning up at him.

"Who do you think you are? The Joker?" Amane frowned in confusion, and Bakura's eyes moved down to her. "Oh, I forgot. You weren't around for that reference. At any rate…" His smirk grew a little more crazed, and he tapped the flat of the knife against her side to remind her that it was there. "Yield, girl."

Amane glanced down at the knife and back up at Bakura. She nodded once, and the both of them stepped back at the same time, Bakura putting away his knife. Amane set the pencil back on her desk, folding her arms and leaning back against it. She watched him carefully. Bakura watched her, grinning. He slipped one hand in his pocket, taking note of her posture. It was almost casual, but he could tell that she was on guard, and that she had surrounded herself with items that she could use as a weapon if it came to that. He could already see her eyes moving towards his knife, and could practically see the wheels turning in her head.

"Don't even try," he said. "You couldn't disarm me."

Amane blinked in surprise. "I wasn't going to," she said, innocently. "I know better than that, Kura."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. You're as much of a fairy princess as I am."

She smiled slyly, scooting up so that she was sitting on her desk. "Well, you would look good in a tutu," she said.

Bakura gave her a flat look, then grabbed the pillow from on top of the folded futon Ryou had set out for her and tossed it at her. She leaned back and caught it in the air before it hit her, smirking as she set it aside.

"Well," said Bakura. "Looks like you can still catch."

"Throw the knife next time, and I'll show you," said Amane with a grin.

Bakura smirked, exhaling once and shaking his head. "I am _not _that stupid," he said.

"Worth a try," said Amane.

Bakura looked up at her. "The Shadow of Ammit," he said. "Well, this is a surprise. You know, I never made the connection. When I saw a picture of you, I assumed you were her reincarnation."

Amane frowned, glancing away. The smile faded from her face. "No, not a reincarnation," she said. "Just the same kid that ended up meeting a thief in the desert."

The picture had been in one of Ryou's drawers—hidden, most of the time, even from him. It showed Amane at age seven, long-haired and shy, holding her older brother's hand. Interestingly enough, Ryou had been the more outgoing of the pair, smiling cheerfully at the camera. It was hard to equate the quiet girl he had seen in the picture to the assassin that had been named after the Egyptian devourer of evil hearts. But the picture had reminded him of another scene, one that he often kept out of his mind.

It was the memory of a confused eight-year-old girl in the desert, one who could speak his name and nothing else that made much sense.

He would never tell anyone, but even though she had been very much on the Pharaoh's side in the end, he had always felt a twisted sort of pride at hearing another criminal talk about her with fear.

He'd never feared her. Because in a strange sort of way, he had practically created her.

She looked up at him hesitantly and he frowned, noticing her expression. "What?" he asked.

"Are you going to make me finish what I started, Kura?"

Bakura scowled, turning away from her. It was a question he didn't want to answer, because answering it meant admitting failure. It meant the failure of his own plans, and meant that the inhabitants of Kul Elna would go unavenged. But she was still watching him, waiting for affirmation, wanting to hear that they weren't going to end up on opposite sides of the same conflict again.

He sighed.

"No, girl. I'm done."

She smiled, sliding off the desk. He raised an eyebrow as she padded softly over to him, her socks making barely any noise on the hardwood floor. She stood in front of him for a moment, then to his horror, opened her arms and hugged him. "Good," she said.

Bakura tensed, then exhaled slowly, seeming to relax. He placed his hand on her head. "Amane..." he said. She looked up at him. He moved his free hand suddenly, grabbing her other wrist and stopping her before she could touch the knife's hilt. He smirked. "Nice try." She uttered a word in Egyptian that made him chuckle, because it had been one of the words he had taught to her. "And don't let one of the tomb keepers or the Pharaoh catch you saying that."

"Too late," said Amane with a giggle. "And it was worth a shot." He released her wrist, stepping away from her.

"Also, I _told _you before," said Bakura, frowning at her. "No hugging."

"But I was _nine_!" said Amane. "Come on. It's been six years, and I tried to kill you once. I'm trying to apologize. Make an exception!"

"Three thousand for me, as I remember it, it was twice, and no exceptions," said Bakura.

"Fine," said Amane, folding her arms. "But on one condition."

"What?"

"Teach me the fun words in English?" asked Amane, smirking.

Bakura laughed. "That, pet, I can do." he said. He reached over, ruffling her hair. It was the most affection he would ever show for the girl who had traveled with him for the better part of three years. She squirmed just as she had in the past, ducking under his hand and fixing her hair.

He watched for a moment, amused. "And there's one more thing I can do," said Bakura.

"What?" asked Amane, looking up at him.

He reached into his pocket, tossing something underhand at her. She caught it, frowning as she stared down at it and turned it over in her fingers. It was a small folding pocket knife, not much, but small enough to hide and just large enough to cause some amount of damage. She unfolded it, turning it over and examining the blade. A grin spread over her face, and she folded the knife back into itself, looking up at him.

"No hugging," he said, raising a hand to stop her before she got any ideas.

"Of course," she said, slipping the knife into her pocket.

He didn't believe her for a second. As he turned to leave the room, he glanced back at her to make sure she wasn't secretly trying to hug him.

"And Kura…?"

Her voice stopped him as he was about to leave the room. He paused in the doorway, glancing back at her.

"Don't tell onii-chan about me," she said.

Bakura smirked. "Our secret," he said, closing the door.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Ties That Bind Us**

**By: **

**Mystwalker**

**A/N: **There's going to be a bit of a time skip this chapter. Also, the first update of a series of one-shots called **Tied Together** will be up fairly soon. It'll be a companion fic to this story and will feature all of the funny things that happen with Amane, Ryou, Bakura, and Marik that played out in my head but that can't go here because this story has an actual plot.

So if you like silly things, watch for that.

Regarding Shizuka's name, her official name is actually Shizuka _Kawai_, not Katsuya, because she takes their mom's name while Jou takes their dad's.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Yugioh.

XxXxX

_The shadow moved across the room, slashing out at her. She followed it, blades flashing as she blocked his blows with the knife in her own hand. She saw him smirk, his grin reflecting light in the darkness of the room as he jumped back. She jumped after him, her eyes narrowed in determination as she landed neatly on the ground, launching into a run. The figure took a step back, attempting to move away from the wall, but it left an opening. She saw it immediately and moved to take advantage of it, her right arm lashing out like a whip. _

_Light reflected on the blade in her hand as it arced into the air, stabbing down. The figure grabbed her wrist and pulled, and her blade skittered off to the side, stabbing into the stone wall behind him. Without hesitating, she raised her free hand, her second knife going to his throat. _

_Lightning flashed, illuminating the shrine and she froze, staring down at her target. _

_Bakura stared up at her, a smirk on his face. Her knife stopped just millimeters away from his neck. The lightning reflected off the glow of the Millennium Items around him. _

_He smirked at her, then dissolved into sand, slipping through her fingers. _

"_NO!" she shouted, dropping her knives and falling to her knees. _

_A roar sounded from outside the shrine, flames entering the building and setting it ablaze. _

Amane awoke with a start, gasping for breath.

She opened her eyes. She was lying on a futon on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. The glow of the street light outside lit the room. The girl took a deep breath, running her hand through her sweat-soaked hair. She raised her hand up, staring at it. The cuff of the shirt she was wearing slid down somewhat, exposing part of the scar she was trying to hide. She raised her other hand, tracing the familiar lines and taking deep breaths to calm herself down.

With a groan, she rolled over onto her side, closing her eyes and trying to get back to sleep.

XxXxX

Marik awoke to the sound of the doorbell ringing and the smell of pancakes emanating from the kitchen. He rolled over with a start, cursing as he fell off the couch and hit his head on the carpeted floor. The Egyptian boy sat up, rubbing his head with his hand as he disentangled himself from his blankets. He had spent most of the night tossing and turning due to jetlag, and it felt as though he had _just _fallen asleep.

The doorbell rang again.

"Marik, can you get that?" called Ryou from the kitchen.

Marik got to his feet, tossing the blanket haphazardly onto the couch and walking over to the door. He pulled it open with one hand, squinting into the sudden glare of the sun. "What?" he asked.

The brown-haired girl standing outside gasped, taking a step back and raising her hand to her mouth. Her hazel eyes were wide. He recognized her as Jounouchi's sister, from Battle City. Marik frowned, glancing from her to the mirror behind him. His hair was unkempt from tossing and turning through the night, and it was standing on end in places. He muttered a curse under his breath, raising his hand and attempting to smooth it back down.

"Relax. It's just me," he said.

It probably wasn't much of a comfort, considering he was the only hikari out of the yami-hikari pairs that was not completely innocent of last week's events. And then there was the fact that his dark side had not been his past incarnation, or some spirit sealed into a Millennium Item. It had been something born out of his soul. But whatever she thought about it, she hesitantly stepped into the house anyway, slipping her shoes off and putting them aside. She was dressed in the pink and blue uniform of Domino High School.

"Shizuka, right?" he asked, watching her.

"Ah, yes," she said, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Um—Ryou-kun said I could come over. I have a uniform for—."

"Nii-chan, who's at the door?" asked a voice from the top of the stairs.

Marik and Shizuka both looked up. Amane stood at the top of the stairs, dressed in an oversized long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants that obviously didn't belong to her. She leaned against the stair rail, rubbing her eyes with her hand as she looked at Marik and Shizuka. Her thick white hair was sleep-tousled, sticking up at odd angles around her head and making her look vaguely like a white Kuriboh. Despite the fact that she looked like she had suffered from jet lag as badly as he had, her green eyes were alert.

Ryou poked his head out of the kitchen. He was already dressed for school, a light blue apron on over his uniform. It was dusted lightly with flour, as were the tips of his fingers. He wiped them off with a rag as he looked up at her. "Shizuka Kawai, the girl I was telling you about. She brought a uniform for you." Ryou turned towards her, smiling. "Come in, Shizuka-san. Breakfast is just about ready."

Shizuka bowed politely at Amane. "It's nice to meet you, Bakura-san."

Amane made a face, walking down the stairs. "Amane, please," she said. "Bakura's what they call my brother."

"Not lately," said Ryou with a sigh, stepping back as the three of them entered the kitchen. "That's gone to my yami now."

"That just makes it worse!"

Shizuka smiled. "Then…Amane-chan?" she asked.

"That'll do," said Amane.

Bakura stepped out onto the landing, looking down the stairs. Like Ryou, he was dressed in the dark blue school uniform of Domino High school, but unlike Ryou, his jacket hung open, and his bag was lazily slung over one shoulder. He stared down at them, frowning as his eyes landed on Shizuka.

"Oh," he said. "It's the loudmouth's sister."

"Good—good morning, Bakura-kun," said Shizuka, smiling tentatively.

Bakura glanced at her as he reached the bottom of the stairs, then replied with a shrug. He walked into the kitchen. "What's for breakfast?" he asked.

"Pancakes," replied Ryou, slipping his apron off and setting it aside.

Amane looked up. "Pancakes?" she asked.

Ryou smiled, looking over at her. "Strawberry pancakes," he said.

"I love you!" said Amane, running over to the table. Marik watched as Ryou placed a plate in front of her, a frown on his face. "Favorite food?" he asked.

"Favorite food," replied Ryou with a nod.

Amane grinned, reaching for the bottle of chocolate syrup and squirting it onto her pancakes. Marik grimaced, taking a seat in front of her. "You're going to make yourself sick," he said.

"I don't care," said Amane. "I haven't had chocolate in _seven years_."

"I honestly don't see the appeal," said Marik with a frown, picking up a knife and spreading a small amount of butter over his own pancakes. Amane frowned, looking up at him from over her plate.

"…There's something wrong with you," she said after a while, going back to eating.

"You have no idea," said Bakura, walking up to the table. He stared down at the plate in front of his seat, scowling. "Hikari, why does my food have pink spots in it?"

"They're _strawberries_, Yami," said Ryou, sitting down. "Just eat."

Bakura picked up his fork, poking uncertainly at the pancakes as he frowned down at them. He took a small bite, frowning for a moment as he considered it. Apparently satisfied, he speared an entire pancake onto the fork, turning it over and taking a large bite. Ryou sighed, taking his own seat across from Bakura and turning towards Shizuka, who stood uncertainly at the edge of the table. "Help yourself, Shizuka-san," he offered.

"Ah, thank you," said Shizuka. The one empty seat at the table was between Bakura and Marik. Shizuka eyed it uncertainly before taking a deep breath, pulling it out and sitting down. She reached for the large plate at the center of the table, taking a single pancake.

"I actually already ate, but it looks so good. I think I can have one," she said.

"I'm glad," said Ryou, smiling.

"I didn't know you could cook, Ryou-kun," said Shizuka.

Amane looked up, wiping her mouth with her napkin. "Yeah," she said. "When did you learn how to cook anyway?"

Ryou smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "Ah, well…I lived alone for a while and eventually got tired of take-out. Plus it was getting expensive, so…"

"He does all the cooking and cleaning," said Marik, glancing at Bakura. "And what do _you _do that's useful?"

"Get rid of unwanted house guests," replied Bakura, smirking at Marik and raising his knife slightly.

"You can try," said Marik, ignoring him and going back to his meal.

Between them, Shizuka shifted uncomfortably, staring between the two of them.

Ryou sighed, pushing his food around his plate with his fork. "Don't worry, Shizuka-san," he said. "They won't actually start something."

"Yes, don't worry," said Bakura with a smirk, going back to his plate. "I have fairly good aim. I doubt I'd hit you at all, unless my hand were to slip."

Shizuka let out a small 'eep', staring down nervously at her plate.

"_Yami!" _said Ryou.

Bakura's laugh echoed throughout the kitchen.

XxXxX

An hour and a half later, the five of them were walking into Domino High School. Marik tugged uncertainly at the uniform jacket Ryou had lent him. Like Bakura, he wore it with the jacket open. Amane walked beside her brother, tugging uncertainly at her borrowed uniform. Amane was slightly smaller than Shizuka, and although the uniform still fit, it was slightly loose on her.

"Sorry," said Shizuka from beside her. "You should get your own uniform today."

"No, it's fine," said Amane, frowning. "I'm used to loose clothes. But why is it _pink_?"

Bakura sniggered, and Amane shot him a glare. "Well, _you _try wearing it," she said.

"No thanks," said Bakura. "Marik might want to though."

"Hey!" shouted Marik from behind Bakura.

Amane giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. Shizuka smiled from beside her. "I think it's cute," she said. "But you're right. For a uniform, it feels like a bit much sometimes."

"Amane, our classrooms are down this hall," said Ryou as they entered the building. "The freshman classrooms are back there. Now, are you sure—."

Amane rolled her eyes, resting her hand on her waist. "Onii-chan, I survived in Ancient Egypt. I think I can get around a school building. Besides, I've _been _to school before."

"Yes, but that was primary school in England. This is different," said Ryou.

"Don't worry, Ryou-kun. I'll help her out," said Shizuka. "Amane-chan, what class are you in?"

Amane frowned, taking out the piece of paper they had handed her at the office and looking down at her schedule. "1-C, why?" she asked.

"That's my class too," said Shizuka, grinning.

"What? Really?" asked Amane, turning towards her. "Great!"

"Well, we're in 2-B if you need us," said Ryou. "I'll see you after class."

He turned, about to walk down the hallway. Shizuka frowned, staring down the hall. A group of students stood at the end, their backs to them. One of them had blond hair.

"That's my brother," she said to Amane, pointing him out. "I want to go over and say hi first, if that's alright with you."

"It's fine," said Amane, nodding. She frowned, staring at the boy. Another boy stood beside him, his back towards her. He was slightly shorter than Shizuka's brother, and wore the dark blue school uniform. His hair stood up in a familiar tri-colored shape.

She tugged on Bakura's sleeve. He glanced down at her.

"Is that…?"

His eyes followed her line of sight and he frowned, nodding once.

Amane's frown deepened. "Thought so," she said. She took a deep breath, then moved past Ryou, running quickly down the hallway. Ryou's eyes widened.

"Amane!" he said, reaching out a hand to stop her. She slipped out of his grasp, stopping just behind the boy. Amane drew back her foot, kicking him squarely in the small of his back. The Pharaoh stumbled forward, surprised.

"_That _was for sending me back like that, you jerk!" she shouted angrily.

He turned around to face her, his eyes widening in surprise. "A-Amani…" he said.

"Hm." She folded her arms sternly, glaring down at him. Atem straightened up, his eyes wide.

"What—What are you doing here?" he asked.

"What do you _think _I'm doing here?" asked Amane. "You sent me back yourself!"

"You said you were from England!" said Atem. "I may have just gotten my memories back, but I remember you saying something about it."

"I _am _from England!" said Amane, scowling.

"Amane, what in blazes is going on?" asked Ryou, jogging down the hallway to catch up with her. Bakura followed slowly behind him, standing on Amane's other side with a frown on his face as he looked at Atem. Atem glanced from Ryou to Bakura and back to Amane, growing comprehension in his eyes. Shizuka and Marik hung back, watching.

"What's goin' on, Atem?" asked Jounouchi, frowning. "How come you know Ryou's sister?"

"Ryou's sister…" repeated Atem, glancing from Bakura to Amane again.

"I forgot to mention," said Amane. "My real name is Amane Bakura."

Atem stared, a sudden look of shocked understanding on his face. Bakura stared at him for a moment, before reaching out, placing his hand on Amane's shoulder.

"Tch," he said, turning her around and leading her back down the hallway. Ryou's eyes widened and he turned, starting after them.

"Will one of you please tell me what on earth is going on?" he asked, following them back down the hallway. Shizuka bit her lip, a worried expression on her face as she watched them.

Marik watched them as well, his expression contemplative. He slowly folded his arms.

XxXxX

Amane stood on the rooftop overlooking the schoolyard, her hands on the railing in front of her. She closed her eyes, feeling the wind running through her hair. It was pleasantly cool, a nice change from living in the desert for seven years, where the only time the weather would get like this would be in the evenings or in the very early mornings. Ryou had a meeting with a teacher about something, and had told her to wait so that they could walk home together, but Amane had never liked staying in one place for too long.

She heard the door to the roof open, someone knocking three times on the doorframe.

"Can we talk?"

She opened her eyes and sighed, her hands slipping to her sides. She didn't turn around. The voice was familiar, although it felt weird to hear that voice speak this language. "I don't know…" she said, quietly. "Is it going to end like our last one?"

Behind her, the Pharaoh sighed, walking up to stand next to her. He rested his arms on the railing, leaning forward and looking out over the school. For a while, he didn't say anything. Amane glanced over at him, clenching her fists.

It may have been three thousand years for him, but the memory of what had happened back then was still a _very _fresh wound for her.

"I'm sorry…" said Atem, after a while. "I had no idea. If I'd known…"

"Save it," said Amane curtly, cutting him off. "You were completely rational. He was a threat. It was my job to eliminate threats. I was standing there _in _that damned shrine with him under my knife and I let him go. You were well within your rights to banish me for that. Hell, you would have been well within your rights to execute me for that. Set certainly wanted you to."

"You could have said he was your brother."

"And then what?" asked Amane. "If I said that, Set would have had me executed on the spot and you wouldn't have been able to stop him. It was my fault. I had the chance to kill him and I chose to let him go. So leave it at that."

"I just wanted to explain…" said Atem.

"There's nothing to explain," said Amane, cutting him off.

"Fine," said Atem, stepping away from her. "I won't bother you anymore."

Silence fell over them for a few moments.

Amane sighed.

"I was standing right there," she said, as Atem walked away.

Atem stopped, glancing back at her. "You don't have to tell me," he said.

"I want to," she said, not looking at him. She clenched her fists tighter, hating the way her voice broke at that moment. "I was right _there_, hiding behind one of the pillars. I had the knife in my hand, and I _saw _him come in, with all those Items. I _knew _what he was going to do. And I thought to myself…I can do this. He's not even really my brother. He'll be dead soon anyway. I killed my mentor—how much harder could this be? And then he stopped, and he _looked at me_. And I tried…I really tried…but in the end, none of my reasons worked. I couldn't do it. It didn't matter that he wasn't exactly onii-chan. For three years, he was my brother. He was still my brother."

She took a deep breath. "I couldn't. I was weak…"

"There is _nothing_ weak about loving your family," said Atem slowly, reaching over and placing a hand on her arm. She tensed, and it was all she could do to not recoil. "…No matter who they are."

Amane took a shuddering breath. She wouldn't cry, she told herself. Not here, and not in front of him.

"…I was wrong to treat you so harshly back then," he said.

She shook her head. "I'm grateful," she said. "Grateful to be back here, and that everything turned out alright in the end."

"Yes, but it could certainly have been handled better," said Atem with a frown. "You didn't deserve the things I said to you back then. I hope you can forgive me."

Amane frowned, staring down at the school yard in front of her. "…There's nothing to forgive," she said. "But I can't be the Shadow anymore."

"I don't need the Shadow anymore," said Atem, smiling tentatively at her. "However, I could always use another friend."

Amane said nothing for a while, continuing to look down at the schoolyard.

The door opened again.

"Cut it short, Pharaoh," said a familiar voice from the doorway. "My light's looking for her."

Atem nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said, releasing her arm. She exhaled, pushing herself away from the railing and taking a step back. Bakura stood leaning against the doorframe, his arms folded as he watched them. Amane turned to walk towards him and Atem turned to watch her go, his hand still on the railing.

When she reached Bakura, she hesitated, turning around to face him.

"Pharaoh," she said, causing him to look up. "Friends?" she asked.

Atem smiled, nodding once. "Call me Atem," he said. "Everyone does. See you tomorrow, Amani."

Amane grinned. "Amane," she corrected, nodding once and walking down the stairs. Bakura let the door close behind her, following her.


End file.
